THE SECOND CHANCE

He walked along the edge of the bridge slowly, taking little sips from the bottle in his hand. His long ragged hair flew back in the wind as he walked along with his head cast down and hopelessness written all over his face. A sparrow grasping a yarrow to make it's nest flew over his head and dropped the little twig on his shoulder. He picked it, held it between his fingers and then threw it after the bird infuriatedly.

He walked a little more, cars going past him at intervals, then he sat down with his back against the vehicle parapet railings. He sipped some more.

He took one last gulp of the now half empty bottle of beer and dropped it on the floor of the bridge. He held the cold steel railing and raised himself up. The beer was beginning to take effect and he was feeling a little buzzed out now. He felt ready. He looked at the clear blue water beneath the bridge, spreading out as far as he could see and into the horizon where the sun was quickly setting behind a hill. He looked up above him. The sky was clear too, peaceful. He looked to his left and then his right. The bridge was empty. He clutched the railing for support and lifted his own weight, raising a leg across the railing, in an attempt to climb over.

Just then a car honked in the distance as it approached. It gave the man a shock and he quickly restored his position. He thought the bridge was empty.

It was a blue Chevrolet Volt approaching in the distance from his left. It slowed down as it got closer to him and then parked close to the edge of the bridge. A tall refined man in his forties with a clean-cut face, finely dressed in a black Italian suit and a nice pair of shining black shoes, stepped out of the car...

He stood staring at the other man without saying a word. He threw a glance at the half filled bottle standing beside the man and he understood. The first man stared back at him with angry eyes and dropped upon his bottom.

"Who would have thought of it?" said the man in the Italian suit, leaning against the open door of his car.

The first man gave him a questioning look, obviously not understanding the other bloke's remark. He looked away again into the horizon and picked up the bottle.

Another car was approaching from the left. The neat looking man closed the door of his car and walked round to join his companion. He stood beside him and rested his hands on the vehicle parapet railing, with his body slightly bent forwards. He stared in the same direction as his companion as the approaching car zoomed past them.

"Nice shoes," said the first man.

"Thanks," the second man replied. "Just got them last week."

"Surely must have cost a fortune."

"These? Oh, it was nothing."

"Obviously. It really was nothing," the first man said sarcastically, emphasizing the 'nothing' by rolling his eyes.

The first man glanced downwards at the man sitting on the floor of the bridge beside him. He took note of his looks for the first time. He was a half-breed with long strands of ragged dark hair. He looked thin and his clothes hung loosely on his thin frame. He had on his feet a pair of canvas with slightly worn out soles.
The man on the ground raised his eyes and their eyes met. The second man looked away.

"What you looking at, geezer?" asked the first man, the ragged looking one.

"You know," the neat looking man replied placidly, "I could give you my shining pair but it seems neither of us would be having any more use for them."

"How do you mean?" The shabby looking man on the floor dropped the now almost empty bottle of beer and stretched out his legs.

The tall neat looking man turned and sat down beside his companion with their backs against the steel vehicle parapet of the bridge, both hands resting on each of his raised knees. The sun was almost hidden behind the hill by now.